


The Importance of Calendars

by Peggo



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Fools, Get Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, i have nothing much else to say tbh, sad joe then happy joe, short lil fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26287912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peggo/pseuds/Peggo
Summary: Jos asks Joe out.He doesn't get the expected reaction.He doesn't know what he's done wrong.
Relationships: Joe Root/Jos Buttler
Comments: 22
Kudos: 12





	The Importance of Calendars

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lil shorter than usual, it's been a bit busier than usual for me this week, and I've just had no ideas, so hopefully this can get the ball rolling for me again..!  
> Xx

The dressing is practically empty when Jos comes in, just Joe and Ben chatting in the corner, backs against a bench, with the rest of the lads making the most of the sunshine outside. Joe stands in the doorway for a second, simply watching Joe. 

They’re both sat on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, Joe’s head predictably resting on Ben’s shoulder, neatly tucked under his arm. Although he looks tired, and Jos thinks to himself that Joe never manages to get enough sleep, Joe is radiant, smiling as he chats with Ben, at one point throwing his head back from Ben’s shoulder, tipping it back to lean on Ben’s arm behind him to laugh, and Jos wants to be able to bottle it up, so that if he's feeling sad he has the perfect antidote. He has odd socks on his feet, and his hoodie is far too large for him, both things that Jos shouldn’t find as endearing as he does. 

His hair, usually kept in place with product, is sticking up all over the place following their batting drills before lunch and he has a classic case of helmet hair, one that he hasn’t bothered to fix yet, and it looks like Ben’s ruffled it a few times too since then. His eyes dance as he banters back and forth with Ben, both his hands wrapped around an empty mug that probably held tea in it at the start of their lunch break.

He looks radiant. 

He looks _beautiful_. 

And where the hell did that come from. 

Him and Joe are friends, firm friends and always have been, since their U19 days till now. They’d developed a playful rivalry after he’d signed for Lancaster, a special thing for them to pretend to rib the other about, though it had always been teasing. They’re friends that arrive at training with each others’ coffees, that crash at each others’ houses after matches. That drive each other to various grounds 'to save fuel', that always share a room, that know each others’ Nando’s orders and each others' allergies. Joe had stayed at Jos' parents’ when they’d played near Somerset, and was that normal friend behaviour? Joe had been for Sunday Dinner at Joe’s parents, and thinking about it that was _not_ normal friend behaviour.

He’d never once considered Joe in any other capacity than ‘best friend’ but right now he felt like he’d been looking through fogged up glass, and now he’d wiped it and could see clearly. Joe, sat there, tired but happy, and Jos?

Jos was in love with him.

“You OK there, Jos?” 

Ben and Joe are both looking at him, bemused, and he starts, realising he’s probably been stood there staring for far too long. Staring at Joe. 

Who apparently he loves. 

He shakes himself out of his reverie, nodding and smiling, 

“Yeah, I’m good thanks, Joey.” 

And he’s the only one who calls Joe _Joey._ In fact, now that he comes to think about it, he’s the only one who’s _allowed_ to call Joe _Joey._ When Mark had called him that he’d been corrected with a patented Joe pout and frown, and a petulant ‘ _my name’s Joe.’_ And did that mean that Jos was special to Joe too? 

Does that mean he’d have a chance with him if he asked? 

"Let me take you for dinner?” 

He can’t stop it from falling on his lips, hopeful and in a rush, and he looks at Joe, from where he's still stood in the doorway, down at the younger lad. 

He can feel the atmosphere change, as though someone has turned the thermostat down about fifteen degrees. Ben has tensed next to Joe, who is staring at Jos wide eyed, and… betrayed? 

Jos can see Joe’s eyes starting to well up, and either he’s _really overcome with emotion_ about dinner, or Jos has said something _very, very wrong._ Joe’s doing the thing that Jos has seen him do so many times before, where he bites his bottom lip to stop it wobbling to try and stop himself from crying; he’d done it when they’d watched _The Notebook_ together, when Ali had announced his retirement and when they’d lost the Ashes, and Joe had come to his room, asking for a distraction. He’s starting to shake his head - and is he saying _no_ \- and Jos can see his hands trembling as he clenches and unclenches them into fists, a tell tale sign that Joe is attempting to stave off rising anxiety. 

Jos has spent the whole time watching Joe that he doesn’t notice Ben stride over to him, face like thunder, looking at Jos as though he’s dirt on his shoes. 

“You are a _dick_ , Jos Buttler, an absolute dickhead, I can't believe you,” and he pushes him to the side, calling to Joe, who scrambles to his feet, wiping at his eyes and keeping his head down as he passes Jos. Ben shoots him one last glance, before turning on his heel to leave, though not before he's jabbed an elbow into Jos’ shoulder causing him to recoil, mostly out of shock, and follows Joe through the door. 

* * *

He slides down the wall and stays on the floor by the door for what feels like at least two hours, though in reality he knows it can’t be long, because Chris comes in, looking around the room before his eyes land on Jos by his feet. 

“What did you _do_ , Jos, and why did I just see Ben telling Chris Silverwood he’s taking Joe home, and why the _fuck_ was Joe crying?” He pauses, taking another look at Jos. “Are _you_ OK, Jos. Jesus, what's happened?” He comes down next to Jos, pulling him into his lap, so his sore shoulder was facing up and starts to card his fingers through Jos’ hair. 

Jos doesn’t _know_ what he did, he thinks to himself, closing his eyes and focussing on Chris’ hands working through knots in his hair and trying to work out what he’d done wrong. 

“I asked Joe out, I just- he looked so beautiful, sat there with Ben, with his shining eyes and sunshine smile and glow. Just his _glow_ . You know what I mean? Everytime he smiles that way it warms you up and you want to bask in it everyday, and want to put that smile on his face everyday, no matter what. And so I asked him out. But, eurgh," he runs a hand over his face, "I obviously misread the situation, I thought that he might fancy me too, but he obviously doesn't because I made him _cry_ and Ben shoved me-”

“You asked him out," Chris’ voice is hollow and his fingers have stopped where they’re tangled in his hair, "today.”

When Jos looks up at Chris his stomach sinks again; what had he missed that meant everyone was so against him asking Joe out? Was there something he didn’t know, like that Joe was secretly married to some leggy blonde, who had tragically died leaving him heartbroken and swearing off romance, left with seven children and three grandchildren? 

“Jos,” Chris starts, voice being kept very carefully level, and Jos sits up so they’re sat crossed legged and facing each other, “What’s the date today?” 

Jos frowns. He knows it had been Tom Curran’s birthday maybe a week and a half, two weeks ago _maybe_ , so it must be, what, late March by now, maybe the 27th if he were to hedge a guess? Why was it important what the date was anyway? Apparently Jos can’t stop putting his foot in his mouth today because Chris is blinking back at him in pure disbelief as he tries to work it out. 

“It’s actually April, already, Jofra’s birthday,” Chris began, and then he pauses as though waiting for Jos to realise his apparently grievous error. Jos still can't work out what he's meant to realise already,

“The first of April already?” 

Chris nods, still looking at Jos as though knowing it's the first of April will help explain why asking Joe out for dinner had made Joe _cry._ Chris huffs,

“You really need more sleep, Jos. The first of April, _more commonly known as April Fool’s the day you prank people and ask them stuff you don’t mean_.”

“No,” he breathes out. 

“Yes,” Chris responds, grimacing in sympathy as everything starts to slot into place for Jos. He feels sick to the stomach. Surely Joe can’t think that he was asking him out to be _cruel_ ? But that is exactly the kind of thing that Joe would believe. And Chris was explaining this to him as he realised it; Joe must have fancied Jos since Jos debuted, and had never been subtle about it, but he hadn’t _realised_ that all the times they’d sat next to each other on their flights, all the times they’d sought each other out they’d got out, or the way they looked to each other first after they’d got someone else out had been anything other than an example of good friendship until now. 

“They’ll have gone back to Ben’s. That’s only a fifteen minute drive, from here,” says Chris, smiling as Jos scrambles to his feet, patting down his pockets in search of his keys, and waving cheerily at his back as he hurries from the room. 

* * *

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough fun for today?” is all Ben asks when he opens the door to find Jos stood in the doorway. Jos needs to start reading his calendar or at least _get_ a calendar to read, because how is he meant to explain what’s happened, he thinks to himself as Ben crosses his arms in the doorway, “You’d better not be expecting an apology for how I shoved you. In fact you’d better be here to apologise yourself. Because it’s _clear_ how much Joey loves you, and has done for _years_ , and for you to just rub it in his face like that, I didn’t know you had that in you, Jos.” 

Joe has appeared behind Ben, and Jos opens his mouth to speak, ignoring Ben and instead looking at Joe, 

“I came here to apologise to you, Joe, because-” 

“Because it was a cruel joke, and you didn't realise it would hurt my delicate feelings so much," Jos is taken aback at the bitterness and self-loathing in Joe's voice, "Don’t worry about it Jos, it must happen every April Fool’s to someone, I just wouldn’t have expected it from you.” 

“No!” And how could Joe believe this, Jos couldn’t believe it, “I _didn’t_ _know it was April Fools when I asked you Joe._ I just saw you laughing with Ben and I realised I wanted to make you laugh every day. You were holding a cup of tea and I thought that I’d love to wake you up with a tea, with milk no sugar just the way you like it every morning, with a kiss to your forehead because no matter what you say you are not a morning person. That I’d like to take you out for dinner, and start new traditions with you, that are just us things that we have for ourselves. Have a date night. Have dinner with your family again, but this time rest my hand on your thigh under the table while your mum tells embarrassing stories from your childhood. I want to be your boyfriend, the one that gets to share your highs and hold you in your lows. And maybe I’ve always known this, but it didn’t slot into place until today and I saw you sat there, and I didn’t know that it was April 1st, but I do know that I love you. Please, Joey, believe me?” 

Joe has come out from behind Ben now, eyes wide, despite the tear tracks that have dried on his cheeks, and he’s looking at Jos with disbelief and hope. Ben, on the other hand, is shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, not quite sure where he should look.

“If I asked you again, tomorrow, would you say yes? If I’d asked you yesterday would you have said yes? Because this isn’t a joke for me and I really would love to take you out for dinner, sometime, if you’d let me?”

Ben leaves them to it, because it’s about bloody time he reckons, backing into the kitchen to grab a snack, and at least they’ll get a story for their grandkids out of it. He resigns himself to a day of planning outfits sometime in the near future whenever they do end up going for dinner and pulls his phone out to let Chris know that everything’s been sorted out, nothing to worry about. He’s about to go back through to the living room when the sound of something (or someone, more realistically) being pushed against a door, accompanied by a throaty moan, and decides against it, instead making his way through the snug and turning up the volume of the TV louder than he might normally opt for. He can give them an hour before he kicks them out of his house.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone's been keeping well, sorry I've been a bit AWOL, but I love you all so hope you've had a nice week and that you're all keeping healthy !!!  
> As always, let me know what you liked, and if you didn't like it let me know what I could do to improve !!  
> It's shorter and more dialogue-y than my usual, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!!!  
> All my love, as ever,  
> Peggy  
> Xx


End file.
